


And Death was His Reward

by Arya_Durin_51



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M, Several characters are mentioned, russingon if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_Durin_51/pseuds/Arya_Durin_51
Summary: The death of Fingon
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Kudos: 14





	And Death was His Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Title is the last line from the Lament of Fingon.

* * *

_Never turn your back to your opponent._ Maitimo's words from so long ago, _what simple a time, when I had to worry only about a bruise_ , echoed in his ears when the Valarauko landed behind him. When the whip connected with his back, melting through his armour, the heat was so searing he could not register it properly. He fell to his knees, and screamed.

Tears gathered in his eyes, thinking of his Atar, sacrificing himself, and Ammë, back home, alone and abandoned by all of them; little Arakáno, dead in his arms, and Írissë, wild and beautiful and willful. His thoughts last drifted to Turukáno, not suited for any if this, yet leading an army. _Soon, he will be forced to lead them_ _, perhaps even_ _as High King._ He allowed himself the sweet bliss of thinking about Maitimo, and then- Ereinion. Perfect, sweet, darling, precious Ereinion, his pride and joy, who had thrown the biggest tantrum when he was to be sent away, who would become Ñoldoran because his father fell in battle, and he probably wouldn't even remember what he looked like.

He saw only the shadow of the axe as it swung behind him, high above his head, closed his eyes, and prayed for the first time since he reached Beleriand: "Eru, save the-"

* * *

Maedhros didn't see the finishing blow. But he saw the rest, and that was more than enough for the Captain of Moringoþo's armies. The Valarauko kept stomping on a body, and when he abandoned it, others did as well. Maedhros desperately hoped – and what good had that ever done him? – that he had seen wrong, _this isn't where Finno stood last time I glimpsed him, is it?_

He killed a Valarauko trying to get to the body, and the others dispersed at the mere sight of him. He was a spirit of fire almost as much them and his father, and in battle the fire in his fëa burned with such intensity he could melt steel.

When he looked at the body, he could not help the wounded noise he made. It was unmistakably painful to admit that was actually Finno, or rather, what remained of him. His head was cleaved open in the middle, and his body horribly disfigured, even under the masterfully made armour. _He died in pain_ , Maedhros realised in silent horror that made his knees buckle, bringing him low, _he_ , who knew all the horrors Arda could offer. The only things recognisable about him, even in such a state, were the golden ribbons in his braids. They were the one thing that set him apart, despite having their family's common characteristics; he never left his quarters without them woven in his hair. Against his better judgment, Nelyafinwë grasped a braid in his hand, and wept.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This was written years ago as proof the Professor can be grittier than GRRM. I finally got back to it, hence this.


End file.
